Clueless
by DeniseV
Summary: Rodney's driving John crazy, but the colonel's a little clueless as to the real reason why. Preslash.


"That's it! I have had it!" John Sheppard yelled at his rummy opponent.

"Wh…" Rodney McKay cleared his throat, which brought on another round of coughing. John threw his hand down on the table and stared at the man in front of him while he suffered through the painful hacking. Red-faced from the exertion, Rodney eked out, "What?"

"Are you kidding me?" John asked disgustedly. "You have been hacking like that for three weeks. It's driving me crazy!"

Rodney's throat was raw from all of that coughing. John was sure that his friend's voice would be changed permanently by all of the abuse that the coughing was causing. And he had tried to remain sympathetic throughout Rodney's ordeal, he really had, but the two of them spent a lot of time together; if something didn't change soon John was going to have to take drastic action.

His frustration factor was through the roof.

"It's driving you crazy?" Rodney asked with a scratchy, hushed voice. "How do you think I feel?" That last word stuck in his throat, and another wave of violent coughing overtook the physicist.

Rodney placed his rummy hand on the table and rested his head in his real hand, elbow propped on the table. "I've had a three-week headache from all of this coughing. I can't even play a decent hand of cards because I haven't slept. Can you even remember the last time you beat me at _any_ card game?" John could barely understand his friend now. Pretty soon it would be like the sound had been muted on Rodney McKay.

Hey, maybe the Ancients had a device like that, John thought as he tuned Rodney back in. "What do you want from me? How about I call you when I'm all recovered." Rodney topped his tirade off with a long, painful sounding series of coughs as he started to rise from his seat.

John placed his left hand on Rodney's shoulder, forcing him back into his chair, and placed a glass of water in front of him. Rodney rubbed his forehead with one hand as he drank down the water. John came back and placed three Tylenol in his friend's hand and filled the glass once again.

"No. Stay put. I'm sorry," John apologized. "Can't Carson help?" John asked worriedly.

"We've tried everything. You know that," Rodney said tiredly.

"Yeah, but…" John started, only to be interrupted by a frustrated grunt from McKay as he dropped his head into folded arms on the table.

John stopped talking, knowing that talking about it only served to aggravate his friend more. Dr. Carson Beckett had already put Rodney through two different rounds of antibiotics and subjected him to three chest x-rays. The lungs were clear, and though Rodney had experienced other cold symptoms during the first week, Carson had determined that Rodney would just have to ride out whatever bug or virus this was. Rodney wasn't getting anything other than more tired taking the antibiotics anyway. Hopefully the antibiotics not performing didn't bode poorly for when Rodney suffered a really serious infection in the future.

Not that this hadn't been bad enough for Rodney and for everyone else who had been unfortunate enough to cross his path in these past three weeks.

"Hey," John said to his friend as he massaged Rodney's sore shoulders. "Maybe you should try to get some sleep."

Rodney laughed, a rough, harsh sound that was slightly muffled by Rodney's face still positioned in his arms.

John raised his head and sighed in frustration. He didn't need Rodney to tell him that he wouldn't sleep. Whenever Rodney had tried he would ultimately end up in a position that would cause an onset of the cough.

It was time that John took control of the situation.

"Rodney," he leaned down and whispered into the scientist's ear. "Come on. Get up and come lie down."

Rodney raised his head and turned to look blearily at John. "I can rest as well right here," Rodney said dejectedly.

"No," John said as he took his shoes off and then his pants, leaving him in just a t-shirt, boxers and socks. "I'll keep you propped up in whatever position is most comfortable for you."

"What?" Rodney asked, surprise in his voice, punctuated by a deep, rolling cough. This one left him breathing heavily to catch his breath.

"You need to sleep." John watched as Rodney sat there, perplexed and tired and sick. John hated to see his friend like this. And something had to give, because Atlantis had enjoyed three weeks of peaceful existence, save for Rodney's violent hacking, but the odds were against them that the peace would last much longer. They would need McKay in top form…soon.

"Look, we have two things we can try, Rodney. Sleep with me, or I get Carson to sedate you."

"Carson said it could be dangerous…"

"I know what he said, Rodney," John answered as he kneeled in front of Rodney.

"Did you say 'sleep with me'?" Rodney looked like a puppy that was more than ready for bed.

"Yep. You can't go on like this. And I'll bet I'm the best offer you've had in a while." John wiggled his eyebrows like Groucho Marx.

Rodney grinned unenthusiastically. He kept his eyes on John and nodded in acknowledgement. He stood up and wavered slightly. John held on to his elbow until Rodney sat on his bed.

"You should pee first," John suggested.

"Oh my god," Rodney said mournfully, dropping his head into his hands. John could see that his friend was losing it.

"Hey, hey," John said as he sat next to the man that had grown to mean so much to him. Rodney turned his head into John's neck and sobbed softly, the stress and illness of the last weeks finally becoming too much to take. John put his arms around his friend and let him cry, knowing that Rodney needed to let this out.

John had known this crash was coming, he just didn't know how to stop it or how to make it any easier when it finally came. He hoped this simple act of holding his friend would help, even if just a small amount.

When Rodney was finally all cried out he pulled away from John. His tears had soaked John's shirt. "You'll need a new shirt to sleep in," Rodney sniffled.

"Can I borrow one?" John asked lightly.

Rodney nodded. "Second drawer."

John nodded once, and then said, "Why don't you go get ready for bed." Rodney rose and headed to the bathroom in silence.

John watched after Rodney until the bathroom door closed and then searched the dresser for a clean t-shirt. While Rodney was indisposed, John contacted Carson and told him of his plan. Carson thought it was a great idea and explained the best position for Rodney's breathing and to best avoid coughing. He also said that he would take care of informing Elizabeth that the two of them would be out of pocket for the next eight to ten hours, with any luck.

Once Rodney returned, John quickly took care of business himself. Rodney watched John come out of the bathroom. The scientist looked worried. John sat next to him.

"Are you okay?" John asked.

"Are you sure you should be doing this?" Rodney asked.

"Do what? Help my friend sleep for the first time in three weeks?" John asked in surprise. "Shit yeah!"

Rodney smirked at the response. "You're not afraid of what people might think?"

"No. Should I be?"

Rodney sighed. He was so tired. And he so wanted to have this conversation when he could be more coherent. "You're the Air Force colonel. I'm worried about appearances, on your behalf." Rodney finished with a yawn.

John rolled his eyes. "Rodney, half of Atlantis already thinks we're doin' it." It was a testament to how terribly exhausted Rodney McKay was that the statement was left unchallenged. In fact, it didn't seem to faze the scientist in the least.

John watched as Rodney sat quietly. His eyes were open, but he was barely awake.

"Hey Rodney, don't fall asleep yet."

"'m not asleep," Rodney slurred.

John smiled. "I talked to Carson. He said the best position would be to keep your upper body raised a little. How about I get in bed and you lean on my chest?"

"'kay," Rodney answered as he started to lean back. John grabbed his shoulder and stopped the backward movement.

"Hold on a second. Let me squeeze in here," John said as he climbed in the bed and worked his body around the now boneless physicist. "Shit," John said as he pulled the covers from under the dead weight that was Rodney McKay. "All right, Rodney, lean back," John said as he pulled Rodney to his chest.

Rodney was like a sleepwalker, compliant to all of John's commands. Once Rodney was completely on the bed, John tossed the covers over both of them.

"Comfortable?" John asked.

"Mm-hmm," Rodney replied. John was happy to note that Rodney's breathing seemed relatively clear, which was very different from the pained and painful sounding breathing that had emanated from his friend on those few times that Rodney had gotten any sleep over these last weeks.

"John…" Rodney said, startling Sheppard out of a light doze. Rodney's illness had definitely eaten into his own quality sleep of late.

"Go to sleep, Rodney," John whispered into Rodney's ear. His friend's soft hair felt good against John's cheek.

Rodney turned his head, snuggling his face into John's chest. John checked to make sure that Rodney was still fairly upright. He placed his hand on his teammate's stomach and massaged it, knowing that McKay's stomach muscles ached from the constant pounding they'd been getting. Rodney was soon asleep, breathing easy and feeling warm and comfortable up against John's body.

John had just started to doze again when he heard Rodney's scratchy voice. He listened carefully to see if his friend needed anything.

"John…" Rodney started, followed by a slight cough. "Love you."

John's eyes snapped open. Wide. And then he felt familiar pressure building in his groin.

"Ah, fuck," he whispered, closing his eyes tightly and slamming his head into the pillow. Rodney whimpered at the movement. John hugged his friend tight and said, "Sssh…it's okay. Everything will be okay."

John hoped that it wasn't a lie.

The End.


End file.
